


Hush

by Boudoir_Writer



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Butt Plugs, Carnival, Coming Untouched, Crossdressing, Crying, Edging, High Heels, Implied Consent, Joe wears a corset, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masks, Mirror Sex, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Top Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, also love kinking, breathplay if you squint, dressing up, gags sort of, in Venice, non-verbal Joe, overwhelmed Joe, they love each other a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:16:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29824128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boudoir_Writer/pseuds/Boudoir_Writer
Summary: Yusuf goes quiet, mouth slack, eyes wide, hungry. As much as Nicky adores his husband’s voice and quick wit, he also lives for these moments, when he gets to render him speechless.Essentially 1k+ of foreplay. Also, Yusuf gets to wears a corset. That’s it. That’s the fic.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 12
Kudos: 86





	Hush

**Author's Note:**

> For some reason my filthy brain thinks Joe's pecs should be played with more. So here we go. Enjoy.  
> Also Nicky shouldn't be the only one getting to dress up. :)
> 
> I think I have tagged everything, but if you have any concerns before reading you can find me on Tumblr @ boudoirwriter  
> If you think I have missed any tags do let me know and I'll add.
> 
> Sadly unbetaed.

“Nicky! We are going to be late and the best seats will be taken, my love,” Yusuf calls from the hallway as he exits the bathroom, steam from the shower billowing after him. “Have you seen my -“

From his vantage point at the dressing table, where he’s fiddling with his cufflinks, Nicky can witness the moment Yusuf takes in the items he placed on the bed.

It’s always Yusuf in his heart, the fates having stitched that name in their timeless thread into the muscle, so that at each heartbeat the tug of it will pull and bleed and call  _ Yusuf Yusuf Yusuf. _

Yusuf goes quiet, mouth slack, eyes wide,  _ hungry.  _ As much as Nicky adores his husband’s voice and quick wit, he also lives for these moments, when he gets to render him speechless.

“Do you like it?” He asks, voice level. In the quiet he can hear Yusuf swallow once, twice. Ah, his poor love, at a loss for words. Then again the items Nicky went through the pain of commissioning for the occasion are truly exquisite.

He watches as Yusuf runs a reverent hand on the corset, in deep red and black, the finest silk.

“Here,” Nicky offers, standing. “Let me help.”

He tugs at the towel loosely wrapped around Yusuf’s hips. He’s not surprised to find his cock already rising.

He helps Yusuf into the corset, working the tiny hooks at the front, feeling the rise and fall of Yusuf’s chest against his fingers as his torso is slowly trapped in it’s luxurious prison. 

By the time Nicky guides Yusuf over to the dressing table his lover’s eyes are glazed over and his dick is fully hard.

He places a hand between Yusuf’s shoulders, invites him to steady himself against the table. The dressing mirror, stained by age, gives an unrestricted view of Yusuf’s parted lips, as if already struggling for breath. Nicky’s lips quirk in anticipation. All in good time, he reminds himself, tightening the laces at the back, each tug making Yusuf gasp and shudder.

He meets his love’s eyes in the mirror, heated, bottomless.

“Tighter, I think,” Nicky muses, placing his hands around Yusuf’s waist and squeezing, hard. He watches Yusuf through it, watches him bite his lips and let out a breathy moan.

Tighter it is then, until the pulse in Yusuf’s neck is fluttering and his breathing has changed rhythm, to quick, strained gasps.

Nicky congratulates himself for his choice. The colour a perfect match to his husband’s skin, the shape of the corset cupping the underside of his breast like Nicky’s hands would. He rewards himself by rolling a dusky nipple between his fingers and sucking a bruise on Yusuf’s sweat slick neck.

He reaches into a drawer and retrieves a little box, places it on the dresses between Yusuf’s splayed hands. Yusuf raises an eyebrow.

“Go on, open it,” Nicky murmurs and watches Yusuf tug the bow and open the box. He doesn’t miss the trembling in his fingers.

The pair of pendant earrings in the box are worth more than the place they are renting, heavy with rubies and diamonds, yet their sparkle has nothing on Yusuf’s eyes. Yusuf lifts one up, and brings it to his ear, a coy smile on his face.

Nicky matches it with a smile of his own from per Yusuf’s shoulder.

“Not for you ears, amore mio,” he corrects. Yusuf’s eyes go wide at the suggestion, but when Nicky cups his breasts, squeezing and tugging both nipples, he arches back into him and groans loudly, his buttocks pressing enticingly into Nicky’s lap.

“Yes?” Nicky chuckles.

Yusuf pushes harder into his hands, into Nicky’s dick.

Nicky allows him for a moment longer then spins him around, pushes him against the dresser and sucks a nipple into his mouth, teases it to hardness with his tongue.

Once sensitive and stiff he takes the earring from Yusuf’s hand and makes quick work of opening the clasp and piercing the nipple. Medical school turned out to be a good choice, after all, Nicky’s movements quick and assured. Just a drop of blood escapes the wound before Yusuf heals. Nicky repeats the process on the other side then lifts the earrings and lets them drop. They are heavy with gold and gems and Yusuf moans into the sensation, rolls his hips towards Nicky.

Nicky tuts at his dripping cock.

“I thought you didn’t want to be late, tesoro,” he chides with a barely contained smirk. “Come on, we are not done yet.”

-

Carnival in Venice means excess. Nicky likes to think he’s making Yusuf live up to that spirit, going by the stunning outfit adorning his husband. It would easily put La Fenice productions to shame. High heeled boots, a parasol and the obligatory mask complete the Colombina costume - Oh and a plug, snugly nestled inside Yusuf and pressing into his prostate at the slightest movement. Just to keep things interesting - it’s going to be a long evening after all.

Against tradition Nicky selected a moretta with a nice bit for a mask, not that Yusuf is in any condition to hold a conversation anyway. Between the plug, the corset and the earrings, it must take all of his concentration not to spend.

“You‘ll come on my cock, dolcezza, or not at all,” Nicky had reminded him as they were on their way out. Yusuf groaned loudly but inclined his head in assent and clasped Nicky’s arm with a gloved hand. That was three hours ago and now that the show Yusuf insisted they should go to is finally over - Romeo and Juliet, in Venice, Nicky! - Nicky looks forward to returning to their apartment, their bed.

But first he drags Yusuf into a dark, narrow alley, a lone cat scurrying off at their hurried clambering, and pushes Yusuf against the wall and gets to his knees.

He pushes back his tricorno, removes his bauta, and pulls up Yusuf’s skirt. Yusuf’s dick his hard and straining and Nicky swallows it to the root, sucks hard and hurried, drinks in the absolutely filthy noises he wrings out of Yusuf, even with his husband’s mouth occupied by the bit of the mask.

The tugs at Yusuf’s balls when he feels them drawing up, gives him a few seconds to regain control and then edges him again. And again.

By the time Nicky heads laughter and steps coming their way Yusuf is shaking apart, sobs clawing out of his throat in a strangled whine. Under the rim of the mask Nicky can make out the glint of tears trapped in husband’s beard, even in the low light.

He gets back to his feet, loops an arm around his husband’s waist. Time to call it a night.

-

Once back to their room Yusuf sways on his feet the moment Nicky takes his hands off him. A garbled noise like mourning Nicky’s proximity escapes him and Nicky is quick in divesting of his cloak.

“Sono qui,” Nicky murmurs, arms back to Yusuf. “So good for me, amore mio. So patient.”

Yusuf hums and sniffles and Nicky focuses on buttons and laces and straps. He unwraps layer after layer until all that’s left are the boots, the corset and the mask.

And of course the earrings and the plug.

He guides Yusuf back to the dresser, back where they started.

Delicately pulls the mask off, tugging until Yusuf unclenches his jaw. There’s deep teeth marks on the bite, speaking of Yusuf’s struggle.

Nicky massages his jaw, beard damp with tears and sweat, holds his liquid, desperate eyes in the mirror.

Yusuf allows the kindness for a moment then sucks Nicky’s fingers with his mouth.

Nicky lets him, until filthy noises spill from those lips together with Yusuf’s saliva.

“All right, all right,” he chuckles, pulling his fingers away. He tugs on the plug and doesn’t waste anymore time teasing. Yusuf is slicked and stretched and Nicky sinks in in one smooth stroke.

After that it’s fucking, glorious rutting, hands clasping at Yusuf’s constricted waist, his powerful body bent over, watching the earrings sway and sparkle and tug at his husband’s nipples, watching his cock drool helplessly, 

Punched out little gasps escaped him, breath fogging the mirror, the table rattling as Nicky nails his prostate with each precise thrust.

And in the heat and the frenzy - when it gets too much and still not enough, tears again streaming his cherry stained cheeks, chest straining, air lacking - Yusuf finds his words again. One word.

“Nicolò -“ he calls, and gasps and clenches and spends.

Nicolò - Nicolò follows.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Comments feed my soul - and motivate me to write more filth. Drop one here or come find me on Tumblr @ boudoirwriter  
> I don't bite - much.


End file.
